Show Your Working is a regular column exploring how writers get things done. In this instalment, we peek into the writing routine of comedian, actor and author Steph Tisdell. Her debut novel, The Skin I’m In, is out now.
Images: Supplied.
The Skin I’m In is a coming-of-age story. Where did inspiration for this novel come from?
I can’t help but write about my identity—or identity in general. I’ve always found it an infinite wellspring of inspiration. Identity is at the core of most existential crises, in my opinion. Even as adults. We shed our skins so regularly, but the biggest moult is during adolescence. Adolescence is when we stop only considering ourselves in the context of our tangible little world and think of ourselves in terms of the world at large. I think coming-of-age stories are the easiest way to lean into the self-indulgence of an anxious brain and explore what it means to be yourself.
I based a lot of the anxious overthinking of Layla on my own brain and the ways I overthink. Layla is desperate for justice and that’s based on me. There are probably three characters based on people in real life—Layla and her parents—and that’s about it. Every other character is a vehicle to deliver certain messages or to challenge or aid Layla’s journey.
What does your workspace look like?
I’m the messiest person I know. My dad describes me as a cyclone. I accumulate my comfort items around me wherever I choose to sit and write. For me, that’s outside (usually with a ciggie in my hand) with my birds in the background. I have a massive glass table that I work at. I make notes with markers on the glass that I can wipe away or expand. And that’s perfect for me. A camp chair or an office chair to sit on—no other choices.
Image: Supplied.
Are you an analog or digital writer?
I’m a digital writer. But mostly because I’m an unconscious writer. I don’t like to plan at all, not even when I’ll write. To exemplify what I mean, it took me about nine months to write the first 30,000 words of my first manuscript and about six hours to write the next 30,000. If my characters aren’t scrambling to tell their stories to me, it’s hard. Although if I ever got stuck, sitting and just starting usually kicked me back into the right space.
What sort of software and hardware do you use to get your work done?
I love using Google Docs, but while editing we almost exclusively used Word (with track changes enabled). Word was good, as I could travel and write without needing the internet, and without getting distracted by watching YouTube and stuff. So I think from here on I’d probably use Word or Final Draft, even though that’s more for script work.
For me, writing is best when I’m in my PJs, and I’ve got access to food and water and anything I need is within arm’s reach. Even toilet breaks are frustrating when you’re on a roll!
Describe your writing practice?
I wrote the bulk of my novel in blocks. Editing too. It’d take me months, but only because I needed the space to procrastinate, reflect and think. I spent a lot of time treating the writing process the way I would prepare for a role; I’d process my thoughts on whatever stimulus I had and then I’d think about what my characters would think of it too. So, it’d take me months to be in the perfect position to write through a full weekend or a block of like eight hours.
I wrote the bulk of my novel in blocks.
A big issue of mine was writing, re-writing and editing my work. Specifically, it was the self-loathing and hatred of my own work that would stop me moving forward. When you’re in flow you can write, but if you stop the flow, then you’re just judging the writing and the story won’t come. I was lucky to have a good support network, my editing team primarily. I warned them I’d need a lot of reassurance and they were happy to oblige. It was incredible.
You are also one of the brightest stars in comedy right now. Did you bring any of the craft from those forms into developing your fiction?
I’ve moved away from stand-up, but comedy acting and writing is my joy. I couldn’t move away from it even if I tried. Layla’s voice felt best when it was a bit cheeky. There’s a lot of heavy material in the book, so you have to allow some reprieve for the audience. In my view, you’ve gotta allow that for your brain in general. Humour has always been my coping mechanism, it felt natural to make it Layla’s too.
What was your editing process like?
I relied heavily on my publisher for editing—I found it super hard. Because I wrote first and foremost from feeling, with the theme and message in mind, structure was profoundly difficult for me. I knew the voice, I knew the points I needed to make and I knew what I wanted a reader to feel…but I often got stuck meandering in the brain of Layla. To explore the character and because I loved being in her world. Those were the hardest bits to cut.
I remember arguing to keep a very long chapter that was just Layla observing people on a bus. It had nothing to do with the story, but it was the single most important thing I wrote to ‘find’ Layla and it was so hard to get rid of it. You need outsiders to point out things like that.
How do you navigate your various kinds of work?
Oddly, writing a book has made me feel both more and less confident to write in other spaces. I have built confidence around my ability to portray voice, but I became very, very aware of the ways I struggle with being concise and structuring things correctly.
I feel I have strength in character-building and dialogue, but in my future endeavours I will definitely require support from someone whose strengths aid my weaknesses. Having an editor pull apart your most vulnerable work was the scariest thing at first. But I soon came to love it. It was just about my favourite part. I view my editors as mentors and I was reminded how much I like to learn and be guided. I want to do it for other people too, so I learned from that perspective too.
Has your writing practice changed over the years? If so, how?
Absolutely yes. I think the confidence that comes from doing the work has allowed me to see that it doesn’t matter how big a task appears, it’s achieved by chipping away. That’s a good thing for me—to set big goals—because I’m an all-or-nothing person. But it’s also a bad thing because chipping away is something I lack patience and belief in. Deadlines and accountability were massive for me! I also made sure to include my friends and family in the journey, discussing elements of my book with them to reignite my passion and give myself an added opportunity to reflect. Discussion has always been my preferred mode of learning and fuelling passion.
It doesn’t matter how big a task appears, it’s achieved by chipping away.
That would be the biggest suggestion I’d give anyone looking to undertake a big project like this: find out how you best keep excitement, find people you can discuss ideas with and have one person who’s invested in your ideas from the very beginning. I had some friends who were there right from the get-go, and it made a world of difference.
How do you encourage inspiration to strike?
I try to get in the mind of my characters. That’s my biggest thing. I listened to a podcast once that said: ‘Creativity isn’t built in waves of motivation. Like anything, you have to practise it.’ If I couldn’t write, I’d paint. If I couldn’t paint, I’d sing. If I couldn’t sing, I’d listen to music. You can train your brain to be creatively hyperactive.
I also like seeking out mind-expanding media of any and all kinds. The podcast also suggested that consuming media and forcing yourself to digest it from the perspective of expansion will help you listen differently and ignite new thoughts and ideas. So I started setting myself a work day based on being creative, and if I didn’t feel I could create myself, I’d consume the creativity of others. I also started consuming media that I wouldn’t usually. For example, I fell down a rabbit hole where I wanted to learn as much as I could about espionage and would try to understand the psychology behind governments and diplomacy. I also got into quantum physics, trying to understand black holes and singularity. I still do these kinds of things extremely often. I feel like it’s about turning different lights on in your brain. You never know what those lights will illuminate.
What’s next for you?
I’ve written about five billion pitch decks for the billions of ideas I can’t stop dreaming up. I’m constantly hunting for creative partnerships and writing partners for script writing. I’ve got another novel idea. I’m obsessed with acting and will pursue that as much as I can. I have a dream to direct one day. One day I’ll buy more birds. All the stuff…I wanna do it all.
The Skin I’m In is out now via Pan Macmillan Australia.
